An epic tale in between chapters

After a fierce battle of feats and wits, Lord George VI the Devilishly Handsome had our hero, aptly named Sir Bob XXII-and-a half, trapped without an apparent way of escaping his clutches. Setting his Rezapto-ray to "scrambled-eggs,” Lord George VI cackled maniacally at Sir Bob and, directing the tip of his oversized weapon to touch Sir Bob's nose, he asked between giggles, "Any last words, Sir Bob XXII-and-a half?"

After pausing for merely a second of a half, Sir Bob answered defiantly, "Your flight has been cancelled." The two stood facing each other, expectantly; Sir Bob with a rather large gun resting on his nose and Lord George VI beginning to shake underneath the immense weight of his formidably immense weapon.

After a rather awkward silence spanning about five minutes, Lord George VI gasped and lowered his weapon and began searching the sky above, confused. Whirling about, he awkwardly re-positioned his weapon into its original position of intimidation on Sir Bob's nose, and asked, befuddled in the slight, "Is there something up? Isn't something rather devastating supposed to happen, leaving you to victory?"

Sir Bob shrugged and replied, "Well, see, I've noticed that in tight spots, a hero will hand the villain a line of defiance, and VIOLA, some sort of miraculous event always takes place, leaving the hero, me, to victorious triumph."

Lord George VI narrowed his eyes and inquired further: "Soooooo, you’re telling me that you don't actually have a plan or some sort of scheme of surprise in place that I am unaware of?" To this Sir Bob shook his head and answered, "No, but I was thinking that there was some sort of correlation between a catchy line and an unexpected rescue.” In shame, he lowered his head, “I was just mostly hoping that something really unexpected would happen."

An awkward silence ensued. Lord George VI palmed his face and in a most aggravated, droning voice declared, “That is the STUPIDIST NOTION EVER DEVELOPED! YOU, Sir Bob XXII-and-a half, HAVE COMPLETELY RUINED THE WHOLE MOMENT OF THE THING!!!”

               Lowering his gun, he looked toward the sky in exasperation, shaking his fist upwards in anger. “I asked for a new nemesis, AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GIVE ME!?” Annoyed and feeling rather irritable, his gaze pointed angrily at Sir Bob, who had shrunk under the bright lights of the developing situation at hand. Lord George VI stared at Sir Bob; stare cold and frozen, contrasting eyes alight with fire.  After a minute had passed, he sighed and asked with his fingers on his temples, “Well, then, where were we?” Before poor Sir Bib could stutter a response, Lord George raised his hand, signaling this was a rhetorical question. He looked at Sir Bob, and his eyes lit up with renewed vigor. “Ah yes.” With that, Lord George VI lifted his weapon, and setting it for ‘shake-and-bake,” pulled the trigger and Sir Bob XXII-and-a half ceased to be an organic being, instead taking the form of an ash pile. Lord George VI hooted in delight, and clearing the smoke from the barrel of his weapon with a sharp blow, he shouldered it and skipped away, searching for a new nemesis.

The end.